The Four Elements
by Bailation
Summary: The moments between Ron and Hermione are expressed with the help of the Four Elements of the Earth. Will include fire, earth, air, and water. Series of one-shots.
1. Air

~ **Air**

The Quidditch pitch was packed to the brim with Hogwarts students and teachers, even a few parents, who had all come to watch the last game of the year: Slytherin versus Gryffindor.

High off the ground and floating in front of the three hoops on Gryffindor's side, Ron could distinctly separate the sea of green and silver in the stands from the mass of red and gold on the other side of the pitch. Somewhere in that crowd, very close to him he knew, Hermione stood cheering him on, as always. His heart leapt to his throat as he let himself fall into a daydream which involved him winning the Quidditch Cup for the team, and Hermione fawning over him as he would be remembered as a Quidditch hero. She kissed him and he felt lighter than air, like he could be air, in fact…

"TEN POINTS TO SLYTHERIN! WAKE UP RON!"

Ron was startled out of his daze at the sound of Lee Jordan's booming voice. The Captain of the team this year, Angelina Johnson, sped past him and yelled, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WEASLEY? GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME!"

Without any further information, Ron realized Slytherin had just scored while he was daydreaming of Hermione. He shook himself of all fantasies and focused all his attention back on the game. Though he was in the air and closer to the sky than usual, this did not mean he could have his head in the clouds.

_So much for a Quidditch hero, _he thought. _That bloody woman's going to be the death of me_.

**~Wind**

The jar full of bluebell flames danced along the glass that withheld it inside as Ron stared at it, his mind miles away. Behind him, Harry stood guard outside the battered tent, his fingers playing with the borrowed wand Ron had stolen from the Snatcher who had captured him. Outside, the air was thick with the anticipation of a brewing storm.

Ron glanced up to look deeper into the tent where Hermione sat on her bunk reading _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. _He smirked. He knew that in about an hour, she would approach Harry to tell him that she's cracked another mystery of Albus Dumbledore that would prove him to have been a good man his whole life. However, Ron seriously doubted that there was much more to figure out about Dumbledore; his secrecy toward Harry had convinced all of them that he had been extremely ashamed of his past, and as far as any of them knew, he hadn't been remorseful at all.

At the moment, Ron could care less of Dumbledore. His brain was much more focused on the girl five feet in front of him and her attitude towards him. Hermione had been completely ignoring him since his return one month previously. Not that he could blame her; he had walked out on his two best friends when they both needed him the most, and all because of a stupid locket.

Ron sighed, feeling extremely sorry for what he had done and for himself. He wanted more than anything to be able to talk to Hermione, but then again, he didn't think he deserved to be forgiven after what he had done.

Nevertheless, he decided to chance it and try to speak with Hermione. He had left her alone for the last month, after all (especially since he was dead frightened of her after the tantrum she had had when he had returned) and he truly believed now was the time to face his fears.

He stood up and walked the five feet until he stood directly above her. She continued to ignore him, as he had expected. So he did something that surprised the both of them: he took her book.

"Hey!" shouted Hermione, grabbing for the book, but Ron held it high over her head. "Ron, this isn't funny, give it _back!_"

"_Not _until you hear me out, Hermione," said Ron calmly, though his heart was beating rather rapidly, worried that she would start beating on him again. "I've waited a month, Hermione. At least give me a moment of your time."

She glared up at him, but before either of them could say anything more, Harry entered the tent. "Ron, it's your watch, mate."

"Right," said Ron. He turned back to Hermione and gently grabbed her arm, tugging her toward the mouth of the tent. "You're coming with me, then."

Hermione ripped her arm from his, but followed him outside nonetheless. Once out of the earshot of Harry, Ron turned to her. "Hermione, I know you think I'm the biggest git on earth at the moment, and I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I just thought maybe –"

"What did you think?" demanded Hermione, her eyes suddenly lighting up with fury as Ron noticed a sudden change in the environment around them; the wind had begun to pick up increasingly since they had last been outside. "Did you expect me to fall into your arms the second you come back after weeks of being gone?"

"Of course I didn't!" said Ron, his temper flaring up at once as the wind began to swirl around them. "How could I expect something like that from someone as stubborn as you?" Just as he said it, he regretted it especially when he saw the result on her face.

"You're pathetic!" spat Hermione, her face red with anger and embarrassment. "At Dumbledore's funeral, you told Harry how devoted you are to helping him, and then you leave as soon as the food runs out!"

"I've told you! It was the locket –"

"_The locket, the locket!_" mimicked Hermione, the wind whipping at her hair. "That's the only excuse I've ever heard from you, it was the locket! Well, Ron, believe it or not, but you weren't the only person in the world who was affected by that effing locket!"

Ron held his hands to his head, gripping at his hair as he turned away from her and noticing that the wind was now practically roaring around them; a storm was approaching quickly. He whipped back around and yelled over the wind, "_Why_ do you have to be so difficult? Why can't you just hear what I've got to say –?"

"I haveheard _everything_ you've got to say, Ron, you told me the whole story a month ago! I've heard it from the both of you, Harry's been trying to get me to forgive you, but I'm not so sure I'm ready –!"

"But this is what we _do_!" yelled Ron, frustrated that she was so sure she was right. "I act like a git, you get furious, I get furious, but then we _work it out_!"

Hermione let out a small scream that blended with the howling of the winds around her. "You're impossible! You don't even understand what you've done, do you? You _left_, Ron! This is more than just one of our stupid arguments; Harry and I almost _died_, and you were nowhere near to help us! That's what we're supposed to do for each other as friends; help each other!"

For a second, Ron was speechless, his breathing heavy as he stared with his mouth open. He hadn't expected her to bring up that up. For a moment, the winds around him died away just a bit.

"I know I wasn't," said Ron, his voice much softer. "I know I wasn't there. When you told me what had happened, I beat myself up about it for the last month. I know I should've been there."

When Hermione spoke, her voice was slightly softer, though still straining to be harsh. "Why did you even bother trying to talk to me again?"

At this, Ron's temper flared up again, and so did the rustling winds of the trees around them. "Don't you understand? I couldn't take you ignoring me anymore! I _hate _it when we fight, Hermione! I can't stand it when you're furious with me because…well…I need you. I need both you and Harry."

The wind now had died down to a quick breeze. Hermione's face had fallen from anger to a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Ron had always thought she was much prettier when she couldn't figure something out.

She seemed speechless for a moment, then regained her stance. "Well. If you're really sorry about what you've done, you'll do something for me, and then I _might_ forgive you."

Ron nodded, eager to do anything to earn Hermione's forgiveness. "Anything."

She stepped closer to him, causing his heartbeat to quicken. "The next time I ask for you to do something, you'll do it without any complaining at all. It doesn't matter what it is, you'll do it. Deal?"

Ron was so quick to agree, that he never pondered what that something could possible be. Later, he decided he didn't care, as long as he was in Hermione's good books again.

She nodded silently at him as the wind around them shuffled gently. As she turned to go back to the tent, he could've sworn she had smiled at him.

Ron looked around the forest, feeling a bit better. The promise of a storm had passed, and the sun now began to peek out from behind the trees that stood proudly above them. A slight breeze whispered through his hair and he smiled slightly.

The air was calm, and so was the tension between him and Hermione.

**~Breezes**

The wind around Shell Cottage was calm as Ron descended the slight hill that led to the cliff off of the ocean. On the edge, Hermione sat with her legs dangling off the edge, where a five-foot fall would present itself to her if she were to slip.

Ron frowned. It was only two days after her torture, and he didn't think she should be out of bed. But she had insisted that she needed air, and that she must be involved in their plans for their next move on the Horcrux hunt. Ron could do nothing about any of this, unless he wanted to literally drag her back to bed and tie her down, which is only an easy way to get cursed. He shuddered at the memory of her canaries and had decided to let her have her way.

The breeze that smelled so much of the salty sea rippled at Ron's red hair as he approached Hermione. He sat down next to her, causing her to yelp and jump so far that she nearly fell off the edge. Ron, with his Quidditch-trained reflexes, caught her and pulled her away from the edge.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" said Ron, his arm still around her. "What are you doing nearly falling over the blooming edge for?"

"Me!" said Hermione, tugging away from him. "You're the one giving me a heart attack!"

On most days, Ron would've shot back an insult, but something about today made him want to stay on Hermione's good side. "Alright, alright! I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know you were so…distant."

Hermione's eyes softened at his apology, and she said quietly, "I wasn't distant. I just was…thinking."

"Of what?" asked Ron, feeling concerned. He scooted closer to her on the grass on which they sat. She always looked beautiful when she was worried, her eyebrows would scrunch together, and her lips would be set in a tight frown. Today, she looked especially beautiful because of the light wind that gently moved her hair every which way. She spoke, and Ron realized he had forgotten he had asked her a question.

"Just…of the hunt. And I was also thinking about – well if I survive this, I mean –"

"Don't you be saying that," snarled Ron, his jaw set and his face suddenly rigid. "I've told you already a million times, you're _going_ to make it through this war. There's no way I'm ever going to let you _not _make it through. You're not going to die, Hermione, and that's a promise."

Hermione looked as if she was ready to kiss him, which frightened Ron to no end. Then, without warning, she gave a small squeak and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. Ron made no hesitation and hugged her back, his arms wrapped perfectly around her back.

"I don't know how we're going to carry on with what's coming, Ron," she mumbled into his shoulder. The sea breeze tickled his face as his arms tightened more securely around her to let her know that he wasn't about to let anything happen to her.

"We will," he said fiercely, burying his face in her hair, "we have to."

She seemed to relax in his arms, and he could feel her smiling slightly into his shoulder. He felt like he had calmed her, but he also thought the tranquility of the breezes around them had also settled Hermione's rapid thoughts.


	2. Fire

~ **Flames**

Harry had suggested they split up to look for the diadem, but Hermione couldn't agree less with his idea. She was extremely worried that if she left either of Ron's or Harry's side, she may never see them again. Nevertheless, she squeezed Ron's hand before rushing down the aisle opposite his.

She manically searched for the diadem on every shelf that presented itself in her view, desperately using this task to distract herself from the horrible possibilities that she worried would happen to Harry and Ron…

She had lost herself in the labyrinth of junk. She could no longer hear the footsteps of Harry and Ron, and this scared her. She stopped, listening carefully and hoping for a noise, maybe even a voice…

And she heard him. She heard Harry's voice, so distant she could hardly make out the direction from which it came. He was talking to someone, for she heard another voice she knew not to be Ron's. Then she heard more voices, realizing quickly that someone had found Harry. The sudden drop of her stomach told her they were not friends of theirs.

She was suddenly running back the way she had came. As she came closer to where Harry was, she heard Ron's voice. "Harry? Are you talking to someone?"

Hermione was about to call out when a sudden, "_Descendo!_" caused her to jump. She watched as the wall of junk to her left began to totter, and suddenly crumbled into the aisle Ron had disappeared into. Her heart jumped into her throat, and she made to run out of the aisle. Just as she arrived at the end of the labyrinth, the wall to her right collapsed, causing her to scream as she jumped aside.

She heard arguing from somewhere to her right. Then, a voice that put her worrying to rest called out, "Harry? What's going on?"

It was Ron. He was safe, and she needn't worry. As she turned another corner, she saw four men standing in the middle of the aisle. She quickly backtracked and hid amongst a pile of junk, but not before recognizing the sleek head of Draco Malfoy with his cronies Crabbe and Goyle arguing with Harry.

She analyzed the situation quickly in her head, and decided to shoot a Stunning Spell at Crabbe, who seemed the most willing to try to kill Harry. Malfoy pulled Crabbe away just in time, and it missed Harry by inches.

Crabbe reacted by shooting a Killing Curse at her, which she avoided by diving aside. She heard Malfoy screaming at Crabbe not to kill Harry, for he was for the Dark Lord. Her blood boiled and she directed her wand at Malfoy. "_Stupefy!"_

He jumped aside, and Hermione suddenly saw a tall, redheaded figure appear at the end of the aisle. She smiled as Ron sent a Body-Bind Curse at Crabbe, missing him by inches. Crabbe reacted by sending a Killing Curse back at him, which he avoided quickly with his Quidditch-trained reflexes.

She turned her back for a second to converse with Harry about the tiara before she looked over his shoulder and saw a horror scene.

"HARRY!" she screamed, watching as the flames Crabbe had she quickly conjured chased both Ron and Crabbe down the aisle toward the rest of them. They turned to run, and Hermione could hear Crabbe bragging about the flames, but she knew he had no control over the flames that now chased them all.

She knew what the fire was; it was Fiendfyre, cursed fire that was close to impossible to control. She cursed Crabbe in her head and turned to look back at Ron, who was directly behind them. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along, away from the fiery monsters that were nipping at him.

They turned a corner, and she suddenly realized Malfoy (who had been dragging along an unconscious Goyle) and Crabbe had disappeared from their view. They were only met by the fiery demons surrounding them, trapping them from any means of exit.

She was panicking, screaming over the roaring fire. "What can we do? What can we do?"

"Here!"

Harry had grabbed a pair of broomsticks from a nearby pile of junk that had miraculously yet to burn. He tossed one to Ron, who clambered on, grabbing Hermione and pulling her onto it behind him. They kicked off into the air, and Hermione gripped Ron's waist as they followed Harry through the deadly flames.

The smoke was filled with black smoke, making breathing unbearable. Hermione pressed her face against the back of Ron's jacket, trying desperately to inhale the scent of him instead of the burning Room of Requirement.

Ron was yelling at Harry about something, but Hermione's senses had all gone numb between her panic and the flames. She could only hear the muffled yells of her best friends. When a sudden lurch of the broomstick turning told her they were going in another direction, she raised her face from the sanctuary of Ron's jacket.

Instantly, her eyes, nose, and mouth were all burning as she struggled to breathe. Ron was diving to the ground, where two figures (one standing and waving, one unconscious) were trapped amongst the flames.

As they got closer, she realized they were Malfoy and Goyle, who was still unconscious. Ron turned around and barked at her, "Grab him!" A few feet behind, Harry was grabbing Malfoy's hand and dragging him up on his broom.

As Hermione grabbed the unconscious figure of Goyle and heaved him up onto their now-buckling broomstick, Ron yelled quite clearly at Harry, "IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, HARRY!"

Hermione couldn't agree more, though she said nothing. She was struggling to hold onto Ron and Goyle at the same time. The black smoke was becoming so unbearable that she was coughing uncontrollably.

The flames were now licking at her clothes and hair, causing her to bat them away to quickly extinguish them. Harry was nowhere to be found and she prayed he was ahead of them, that he was already out of the Room…

The door was suddenly in their view, and Hermione's heart jumped. Monsters and demons of fire surrounded the door, but they had to make it out, they would –

The three of them suddenly crashed into the stone of wall of a Hogwarts corridor. Hermione gasped as she breathed in fresh air, she had never appreciated it like this before. She turned her attention to Ron, who was lying on the ground, breathing hard. When he saw her, however, he jumped to his feet and clambered toward her. "Hermione! Hermione, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

His eyes raked over her body, searching for any serious injuries, and though she tried to reassure him that she was fine, he only looked more worried.

Another crash sounded behind them as a second broomstick crashed into the same wall. Harry and Malfoy collapsed to the ground, both breathing heavily. Malfoy was whimpering about Crabbe, and Ron harshly told him that he was dead. He turned back to Hermione and pulled her toward him, embracing her harder than ever before. She absorbed every part of him, breathing him in, even if he now smelled of the burnt junk of the Room of Requirement.

"I didn't want to split up," said Ron over her shoulder, "I wanted to stay with you, but Harry insisted, and we needed to find the diadem –"

"I know," said Hermione, tears forming and dripping down her blackened, soot-covered face. "I didn't want to leave you either."

They broke apart just as Harry was questioning where Ginny was. Hermione caught sight of the bruised and gaunt faces of her two best friends, their hair now singed like hers, and she wished now, more than ever, that peace would present itself to them at last.

**~ Fire**

Hermione sat on the couch in her living room, looking quite content as she stared at the roaring orange flames in the fireplace, mesmerized by the light. Behind her, Ron stood at the stove making tea for the both of them, staring at her with a slight grin on his face. Around them, boxes were stacked up to six feet tall; Ron and Hermione had just moved into their first flat together.

Ron walked into the room and handed her a cup of tea, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. He sat down next to her and wrapped the quilt that his mother had knitted for the two of them for a housewarming gift around their bodies. It was checkered with Gryffindor colors; the red and gold always had made Ron feel like he truly belonged. He looked over at Hermione and watched as she stared at the fire, her eyes reflecting the flames. She looked at him, those mesmerizing brown eyes causing his insides to melt. He smiled at her and leaned forward to gently kiss her forehead. He never loved her as much as he did at the moments when she would smile at him and make him feel like he was the happiest man on earth.

Tom Riddle had been defeated one year ago, but there were still Death Eaters getting captured every day by the Order, all who were plotting to "finish their Master's work" by killing Harry Potter. None prevailed, but Harry and all who were close to him still lived in fear.

Harry had gotten a flat in Diagon Alley, right next to Ron and Hermione's, and both were under every protection charm imaginable, as well as the Fidelius Charm. After suffering through a war as the three of them had done, it was hard to escape the habit of security and protection.

But it was on nights like these that Ron felt completely and utterly safe. Nothing but Hermione and her sweet smile along with the flickering flames in front of them were present. He reached forward and took hold of her hands in both of his, gazing softly into her eyes. He gently brought one of her hands up to his face and kissed her knuckles. He stared at her beauty for a second longer before speaking. "You're my world; you know that, don't you?"

Hermione smiled at him with a slight smirk. "I do. And you're mine." She withdrew her hand from his to gently run her hand through his vivid hair.

The fire roared in front of them as Ron lay down across the couch, bringing Hermione down on top of him. He stared at her for a moment longer before leading her lips to his. The kiss became more heated and passionate, and Ron couldn't think of anything in the world that was more perfect…

An hour later, Ron and Hermione lay asleep on the couch in front of the still roaring fire, their arms around each other in a bond that promised to last forever.

**~ Embers**

The graveyard was bitterly cold as the two figures strolled in between the snow-covered carved stones of recorded memories. The glowing embers of the fire they had started to keep warm in the middle of the graveyard were behind them as they walked around, looking for a few particular graves.

The Death Eaters were fewer these days, especially since Lucius Malfoy was killed over two months ago in a battle against the Order. Tom Riddle, the man who had fueled the fire which was the Second War was dead, and only embers were left to pick up now, after the many months it had taken for that fire to finally burn out.

Ron squeezed Hermione tighter to his side as they approached the grave of his dead brother. They stared at it for a moment before Hermione withdrew her wand, from which she conjured a bouquet of black roses. She laid them in front of his grave, making sure they look perfect before accepting Ron's arm around her once more. He kissed the top of her head and glanced one last time at Fred's grave before leading them both away.

He kicked the some snow over the embers, feeling a bit better about the lives that had been lost over two years ago. His family and the rest of the wizarding world had done their mourning. Now it was time to move on.

Hermione suddenly escaped from his arm and faced him, wrapping her own arms around his waist and embracing him. He gripped her back, burying his face in her hair. They stood like this for what felt like forever, breathing each other in. When they broke apart, Ron looked into her eyes, gently taking her face into his hands.

"We're going to have a better life," he said simply. "I swear to you, we're going to find a better life."

Hermione only smiled up at him and gently kissed him. Around them snowflakes began to fall, and as Ron put his arm around Hermione once more as they left the graveyard, they both realized the embers were just about buried, and soon there would be none to pick up at all.


	3. Earth

~** Soil**

Hermione scooped handfuls of soil out of the earth as she dug a small hole in which she was planting a small rose. Gardening was a hobby her mother had introduced her to, and Hermione found it was a great way to take her mind off of the many stresses of life.

Being a witch, she knew she could always plant a whole garden in the matter of seconds with a few waves of her wand, but she liked to garden the muggle way. It was more time-consuming to do it using manual labor, but Hermione found that it was more rewarding that way.

As she placed the rose in the hole, she heard footsteps behind her, footsteps that sounded like they were trying to be unheard, and failing miserably. She smiled as she looked round, knowing exactly who the person with loud feet was.

Before she could say anything, however, she was met by a pair of soft lips meeting hers, and she was pushed back onto the soil in surprise. She smiled as she thought of whom the lips belonged to, and kissed them back.

Ron finally withdrew back, breathing heavily as he hovered above her. She looked admiringly up at him; today, he was wearing a green shirt that went well with his red hair, jeans, and the orange Converse he had found in a secondhand muggle shop in London only a few weeks ago. The muscles in his arms flexed as he grinned down at her, his blue eyes sparkling with adoration.

"You're gorgeous," he informed her. Hermione smirked and ran a soil-covered finger down his cheek, smearing a line of dirt on his face.

"So are you." Under her hands, he flexed his biceps a few times and she laughed out loud.

"You really are mad, Weasley," she said to him. He grinned and dipped his hand in the soil, outlining her cheekbones with the dirt. "That makes your brilliant self perfect for me, Granger."

She smiled and gently pulled his jaw toward hers, leaving a trail of kisses from his lips to the other regions of his face. She pulled back and studied his face, dotting some of his freckles with more soil. He countered her move by drawing circles of dirt on her temples. She laughed and traced the shape of his nose, leaving a long line of soil.

"You have dirt on your nose," she informed him, beaming at him as his face grew closer to hers. He smirked at the memory of their eleven-year-old selves.

"Cheeky," he whispered, before capturing her lips with his.

**~ Earth**

Hermione was staring out at the never-ending hillsides of Scotland, the green earth covering every area around her. Behind her, Harry and Ron were discussing the next move they should make on the Hunt.

"You know," she said, loud enough for the two boys to hear, "I've never noticed how lucky we are."

Ron looked round, but Harry was currently trying to figure out the secret of the message on his first Snitch, and he turned away distractedly, leaving Ron and Hermione alone.

"What do you mean?" Ron frowned, approaching her closer.

Hermione turned round to face him, beaming for the first time in weeks. "Have you ever noticed how we live in one of the greenest places on earth? I mean, people in North America and Asia don't have hills like this because they've industrialized everything."

Ron looked around at the hills, looking like he was noticing his environment for the first time.

"Yeah," he finally agreed. "You know, we need to see more. I've never been out of the U.K. Maybe when this is all over, we can take a bit of a vacation."

Hermione smiled at him, surprised at how casual Ron could be in such depressing times. "Really? Are you sure?"

"'Course. We could go to Australia to get your parents, and then when everything's semi-normal again, I'll take you somewhere. Promise."

Hermione beamed at him and fell into his arms, squeezing his torso tightly. "Thank you, Ron."

He embraced her back with surprising strength. "I'll take you all around the earth, Hermione. You'll always be worth it."

**~ Ground**

"Ron, it's not going to happen."

"C'mon, Hermione! It'll be fun –"

"You know full well I've tried again and again and I've never been able to do it. So the answer is no."

Ron rolled his eyes as he dropped his gaze to the magazine in front of him. For the past two days, he had been tirelessly urging Hermione to let him teach her to fly a broom properly, but she was indifferent to his efforts. She used to ride with him all the time, if he begged her enough. But ever since the incident when Crabbe set the Room of Requirement ablaze with Fiendfyre, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were forced to escape by broom, Hermione had avoided broomsticks at all costs.

The war had ended two years ago. Ron thought this was much too long for Hermione to keep up her deathly fear of brooms. Mind you, she had always been afraid, but now he couldn't even convince her to take a ride even with him sitting behind her.

He looked up and stole a glance at her. She was sitting next to him in bed, reading a book she probably had read a thousand times before. He abandoned his magazine and inched closer to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her in closer to his own body. He kissed her forehead, and she finally looked up from her book, giving him her full attention.

"You know I would never put you in any kind of danger, right?" he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

She grinned and nodded. "Yes, I know that."

"So believe me when I say nothing – and I mean _nothing_ – is ever going to happen to you while riding a broomstick. Because I'll always be right there with you, and I would never let anything happen to you."

Hermione looked at him, studying him carefully. He hated it when she did that; it made him feel like she could see straight through him.

"Alright," she said finally. "I'll try it – _just this once_. If I fall, I'm never getting on a broom ever again."

"You won't," Ron promised gleefully. "C'mon, let's go!"

"Wait, _now? _Ron, it's the middle of the night!"

"Yeah," he said, grinning at her as he got dressed. "Perfect time of the day for flying! Not too much wind usually, especially tonight…" he trailed off as he looked out the window, which showed a clear night lit with a full moon and millions of tiny glowing stars.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes as she got out of bed. "This is mad," she informed Ron as he pulled her down the stairs and out the front door.

"The most brilliant things usually are," he told her as he grabbed his broom from inside the shed. He mounted the broom and looked over at her expectantly. Hermione, however, smirked, folded her arms and sidestepped him to look up at the moon.

"You know," she said, "I don't think tonight's a night for flying."

She heard a small sound of whooshing wind as Ron appeared in front of her, hovering a few feet above the ground on the broom.

"You don't say?" he asked teasingly, his face getting closer to hers as he hovered lower. "Then for what is tonight?"

She rose on her tiptoes so she was nose to nose with him. "Nothing in particular," she whispered, before capturing his lips with hers. She withdrew much too early for Ron's taste, and started toward the door, leaving him hovering in the light of the moon, a smirk caught between amusement and longing stuck on his face.


	4. Water

~ **Ice**

Hermione scribbled furiously on the rapidly growing essay she was writing for her Department. Every few minutes, she would shoot an icy glare at her redheaded husband, who would meet her eyes and give her a sheepish grin. She would narrow her eyes even further and go back to her essay.

Their flat was silent for hours as she wrote her essay, and he lay on the couch reading a Quidditch magazine. Finally, after many glances at his wife, he put the magazine down and snuck up cautiously behind her. He swept her hair to the side and gently kissed her neck. She frowned and pushed him away. "Stop it, Ron, I have a deadline."

"C'mon, Hermione, I told you I was sorry."

"And I said I don't care."

Ron sighed and wearily ran a hand through his violently red hair. "You know, I've never met someone who could be so warm one minute and turn so icy the next."

"I'm only "icy" because of what you said," Hermione replied coldly.

"It wasn't even that bad of a comment!"

Hermione ignored him and turned back to her essay. Ron let out something between a scream and groan and raised his voice. "This is so typical of you! Here you are, writing a five-hundred-page essay on a _Friday_ night! You hardly ever have time for your personal life anymore, because all you do is _work!_"

Ink splattered everywhere as Hermione slammed her quill down and jumped up from her seat. "Oh, I don't have any time for my personal life, Ron? I've gone out with you every weekend for the last six months! Is it too much to ask to stay in for one Friday night? Or do you constantly need to go out and party every weekend?"

Ron glared at her and looked like he was about to shout back, but he simply turned away and left the room, mumbling, "Merlin, all I said that we should go out to dinner and leave the house-elves for later."

He didn't know it, but she shot another icy glower at his back and went back to her essay.

**~Water**

Ron had surprised her by buying their first house after they got married. He had been saving the money he made as an Auror to buy the small cottage by the sea. He knew how much she loved Shell Cottage, especially because it was on the water. She had envied Bill and Fleur since she had set foot into their home, and once the war ended, Ron noticed instantly how much she loved the seaside. During the summer, they would find a new beach nearly every weekend by which to spend the day. Once Ron had bought the house, the two spent days outside in the water.

Ron remembered the first time they swam in the sea by their new home. They had just finished unpacking their small number of possessions, which had only taken three days, and Hermione had immediately insisted on swimming off the small cliff in their backyard.

When he found her outside after changing into his bathing suit, she was already in the water, her back turned to him. She wore a one-piece bathing suit, only because she had never been comfortable enough to wear a bikini like Ginny usually did. However, the neckline of the suit plunged rather lower than Ron would've expected from Hermione, and this always caused him to grin when he saw her in it.

He ran through the sand noiselessly, and into the shallow water, causing Hermione to spin around and the sound of splashing water. She laughed as he grabbed her around the waist and twirled her around, kissing her neck. She wrapped both her arms around his shoulders and pulled both of them down under the surface.

Under the water, despite his eyes being closed tightly, he could still feel her hands on his bare chest, and her lips on his. The water swirled around them as he grinned and kissed her back, tasting both her and the saltiness of the sea. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled them back above the surface.

They both broke apart as they gasped in the fresh air, their arms still around each other. "You're a bit more passionate when you're near water," he informed her. Hermione chuckled and left a trail of kisses from his face to his neck. Her arms dropped from around his neck and grabbed his hands, dragging him back ashore.

They both collapsed onto the sand, Ron hovering above her with his hands around her waist. She kissed him once more and gently pushed him off, pointing into the distance, where the red sun was setting over the glassy, sparkling water. "Ron, look."

He looked at the sun, which was sinking in a colorful sky of orange, pink, violet, and red. Its reflection danced over a sea of shining, still waves that looked silver in the evening light.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, her eyes looking mesmerized by the view. Ron looked at the sunset, and then back at her, taking in her beauty. She noticed him staring at her, and her soft brown eyes settled on his face, studying him as if he were an interesting painting that had a deeper meaning. "What?"

"Yeah, the sunset is beautiful," he told her, leaning toward her until his lips were an inch from hers. "But you're more beautiful than any lousy sunset, Hermione."

She smiled at him lovingly and traced a finger down his face, finally sealing the space in between them with a kiss.

**~ Rain**

The overcast sky hung over Diagon Alley for three days, threatening to release a downpour on the small wizarding shops. Ron and Hermione sat outside in front of the Leaky Cauldron, eating lunch as the clouds above them moved faster and turned blacker.

"You know, I've always liked the rain," said Hermione, smiling up at the sky. "It's always a good day to sit by the window and curl up with a good book."

Ron smirked. "Don't you do that every day?" he teased. She rolled her eyes and threw one of her chips at him. He grinned at her good-naturedly as they finished their food, and left the pub to stroll down the old, cobbled road.

Just as they passed Flourish and Blotts, a raindrop hit Ron on his temple. Hermione noticed and smiled as she wiped the drop away and kissed the place it had hit. More drops fell from the sky, and they both looked up. The rain began to fall faster until it had transformed into a downpour. Hermione laughed and Ron grinned at her.

"C'mon, let's go find cover!" he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the nearest shop. However, she kept her feet firmly on the ground and protested, "No, Ron! I want to stay!"

Ron, who had begun to head for the nearest shop five feet away from her, looked at her like she was mad. "Hermione, it's pouring! We're going to get soaked!"

"Yes, isn't it brilliant?" said Hermione, her hair already getting flat as the rain drenched the both of them. Ron stared at her as she opened her arms to the downpour, allowing the rain to drip down her entire body. He had never seen her in such a dreamlike state that made her mood almost worthy of Luna Lovegood. Nevertheless, he liked the way she was acting.

She was still entranced by the rain as he ran toward her and tackled her with a tight hug. She laughed and turned in his arms, kissing his nose. He stared at her beautiful face that was now completely wet with rain. As he looked into her soft brown eyes, he decided he had never loved her more than he did at that moment. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed her shoulders and kissed her with all the passion he could muster. She smiled against his lips and snaked her arms around his neck, clutching him closer to her body. To the outsider's eye, it would be quite a sight, two young adults gripping each other in the middle of a rainstorm. But for Ron and Hermione, there couldn't be a more perfect moment.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Hermione broke apart from him, laughing as she turned her face to the clouds. Ron wrapped his arms more firmly around her waist, and kissed her neck. "Hermione."

She met his eyes, and he knew there probably wasn't a better moment for what he wanted to do. He grabbed her hand and, with the rain still pouring around them, sank to the wet ground on one knee. He took out the ring that had been in his pocket for the last five weeks and presented it to her. She gasped and her hands leapt to her mouth.

"Hermione," he said, as she squeaked his name, "You've been the light of my life since I saw you in that bloody dress at my brother's wedding. There's nothing I want more than to be yours for the rest of our lives. And if you'll have me, I want to have you too." He kissed her hand, feeling the cool rain on her skin. "Hermione, would you marry me?"

He was sure she was crying, but her tears mingled with the rain, making it hard to tell. She started nodding frantically and whispered, "Yes, Ron, yes!" He stood and she flung her arms around him, kissing every inch of his face.

Ron Weasley had never cared for rain, but that day it became his favorite kind of weather.


End file.
